


Not the Man I Knew

by Obsessiveangel



Category: Tekken
Genre: Blood, Death, Devil, M/M, Murder, Original Character Death(s), Rape, Torture, Yaoi, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 14:03:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3695072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obsessiveangel/pseuds/Obsessiveangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jin turns to Hwoarang for help, only to find him depressed and lost at the demise of his master. As Jin tries to talk some sense into him in an attempt to awaken the old Hwoarang, a memory of a drunken night between the two fighters led them to the bedroom. However, just as things started looking better, Jin lost control to the Devil in him and he is left to watch through the Devil's eyes Hwoarang's final moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not the Man I Knew

**Author's Note:**

> I was bored and sleepy...

I could see him crouched over the grave, the trembling of his hunched frame evidence of his sobbing. I pushed myself off the tree I was leaning against and walked forward. Deep in his sorrow, he showed no signs of noticing me. But as I neared him, the silence of the graveyard paved way for his sobs and whispers, all of which were in his native tongue. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I got you involved." He was repeating his words over and over again, as if it would get him back the one person in his life. He was on his knees, leaning forward, his hands clasped together almost in prayer. 

It wasn't his fault. None of it was. How could it be his fault when all he wanted was to destroy my reign and I- everything that was plaguing the world? If he had succeeded, he would have been hailed as a hero. But he didn't, and it descended him into the pits of depression, over how his failure had led to the death of the most important man in his life. 

"It should have been me," he sobbed. 

"You really think he'd like that?" I asked, making my presence known. I knew he recognized my voice. I could tell from the sudden stiffening in his body, the slow turn of his head, almost in fear. 

"K-Ka..." My name died on his lips as he turned to face me. I held out my hand in greeting and he jumped backwards, turning to face me completely. "What are you doing here?" His voice was weak, with no trace of the Hwoarang I knew. 

"I'm here looking for you," I replied. 

"But..." He trailed off, taking a long, hard look at me. "They said you were dead." 

"It's going to take a lot more than that for them to kill me," I replied with a sigh. "I need to talk to you... Are you... erm... done?" I nodded towards his Master's grave, feeling more insensitive than I ever had before in life. He looked at the grave, then at me and nodded. He got up slowly, almost shakily, dusting off twigs and leaves from his faded blue jeans.

I realized that he had changed a lot. He wasn't wearing the tight leather jackets and vests that I was so used to him wearing. Instead, he wore a fitting black hooded t-shirt, with jeans and a pair of black shoes. His hair wasn't gelled backwards anymore and the auburb locks fell disheveled into his face. Looking closer, I could see tinges of black nearing the top of his head. He probably hadn't dyed his hair in awhile. He walked with his head down and his hands in his pockets. His voice was low and almost a mumble, lacking of the fight and passion he once had.

He pulled on his hood and led me out of the graveyard. We walked down the street in silence and I followed all the way back to his apartment. Contrary to my beliefs, he didn't live in a dingy apartment. In fact, it was a pretty decent one. However, the place was in somewhat a mess. There were some junk food wrappers left on the marble top of the table. When I peered into the room, I saw a pile of undone laundry. There were a few magazines tightly shoved into a shelf, with pages sticking out randomly. He led me to the kitchen. 

"Want a drink?" It was the first thing he said in awhile. I nodded and he rummaged through the fridge as I sat at the table. He pulled out two cans of cola, placing one in front of me and opening the other for himself. He sat across me and started drinking. His eyes were fixed on the table, not even looking up once. 

Was this really the rival I once knew?

"I can barely recognize you anymore," I admitted with a tinge of annoyance. I knew he was grieving but I never expected him to be that hopeless. It pissed me off that he seemed to have given up in life. This wasn't the Hwoarang I knew at all. 

He let out a strange, choking noise which sounded like a flat and emotionless chuckle. "Why are you here?" he asked. 

"I came here to offer you a deal but now I'm having my doubts," I replied, opening my can and leaning back into my chair. I eyed him thoughtfully, wondering if my initial plan would work with him in this state. 

He looked up at me, his otherwise dead eyes burning with slight curiosity. He remained silent, probably contemplating. I could tell that he obviously wanted to know more about it but there was a part of him that couldn't care less about me- the man who caused the death of his beloved master. 

"The seventh tournament is going to be announced. I was hoping you'd help me," I said, taking a sip from my can of cola. The cola was a little too sweet but Hwoarang had always been one for sweet drinks so it wasn’t much of a surprise. 

“Help you…” he murmured. 

“Yes. Fight for me in the tournament and I’d help you achieve what you set out to do two years ago,” I said. 

“No,” he said. 

“I’m not surprised but care to explain why?” I questioned. 

“I’m done with you.” He stood up and stared walking out, taking occasional swings from his can of cola. I got up and followed after him, leaving my drink behind. It was a little too sweet anyway. 

He moved to his couch and sat down, taking the remote controller and starting to surf through the channels on his television. He eventually settled with one, placing the remote beside him as his eyes fixed on the screen. I walked over and stood behind the couch. He was watching soccer- something that I always wanted to learn to play. Hwoarang probably knew how and I bet he was pretty good at it as well. I had heard from other fighters back during the tournament about how he was really good in various sports, almost unbeatable at times.

“Why do you need my help to fight in the tournament?” he asked, turning his head slightly. 

“I can’t enter it myself. If anyone found out I'm alive, they’ll start chasing after me again,” I explained. “You’re the closest I have to a friend so I thought of you.” 

“Sure,” he scoffed. At least he was as cynical as ever, though he seemed much more annoying than he used to be. “You got Xiao.” 

“Xiao’s not someone I can rely on in this case, Hwo. You’re all I have,” I replied. I moved over and sat beside him, leaning backwards and stretching my legs out front. “If you win this tournament and overthrow my father and grandfather, it could lead the world to a new era. Maybe one of peace even.”

“Sure,” he muttered. “I’m going to lead the world to peace.” 

I started doubting if there was ever an end to his cynicism. 

“Look, I know you’ll be a better leader than any of us have ever been,” I sighed. “My bloodline is tainted. The world needs someone who’s normal.”

“Thanks for the compliment. It really lifted my spirits.” He still hadn’t made eye contact with me ever since he left the kitchen, staring at the screen as we spoke. 

“Look, Hwo, I know you’ll do well. To save the world, you have to take part,” I insisted. “Don’t you want everything to end?”

He turned to look at me, his eyes tired and strained. He opened his mouth slightly and closed it before he spoke. The troubled look in his eyes deepened and they trailed down to the sofa. His fists clenched.

“I don’t want to get involved anymore-”

“Do you think Baek would have wanted that?” I cut in. “Do you think he w ants you to become a big pathetic pussy who sits and cries over his death all day instead of stepping up to do something? He would be disappointed if he saw you like this!”

Hwoarang stared at me, bewildered that I had even said it. Once the weight of my words fully descended on him, he lunged at me, pushing me down onto the couch. He aimed punches at me, all of which I managed to dodge by shifting my head. After a slight struggle, I managed to grab his wrists, stilling his movements. Through the thin cotton of his sleeve, I could feel the hard curve of his wrist bones. I stared at him and realized that he had lost some weight from the last time we met. His shoulders and chest had shrunk considerably as well. 

“You know nothing about us… Don’t you speak of him like that… You know nothing,” he hissed, breathing hard.

“On the contrary, I do know somewhat. I know that you were orphaned at eight and was abandoned by your aunt- your supposed guardian- on the streets. You lived with a bunch of homeless people who didn’t really care much about you as well. A year later, you were caught when you tried to steal from a man and that man took you in. He taught you your art and raised you as his own. As I recall from one of our fights, you said that your master taught you never to give up, even when your opponent seems to overpower you, which is why when you were faced with my devil form in the fifth tournament, you didn’t back down. So now, when life’s your opponent, why are you giving up?” 

He continued staring at me, my words making him go limp from despair and denial. I released my hold on him and he slumped down on me, his head resting against my chest. His fist bunched a handful of cloth from my hoodie and I heard a sharp intake of breath. 

“You stole everything from me…” he whispered. “But why do I feel so comforted by you?” 

I reached up to his head, letting my fingers brush through his red locks. His hair was soft and smooth and my fingers slid through easily. I grabbed a fistful of his hair and wrenched his face up to look at me. Discomfort glazed his eyes but I could see a distant memory being invoked in his mind. 

Believe it or not, the two of us had once spent a night together. It was way back in the third tournament. Prior to the start, the fighters threw a big party at the hotel lobby, where everyone was drinking and singing. We had a little too much to drink and from what I heard, we were all over each other. At some point, we went to my room and stuff ensued. 

And if I remembered it correctly, Hwoarang really liked it rough.

I tugged harder on his hair and he let out a whimper, closing his eyes. I could feel a strange knot forming in the depths of my stomach. As I stared at him, I had the urge to throw him on the ground and pound into him until he screamed and begged for mercy. I felt a deep chuckle in the deep recesses of my mind and focused my attention on Hwoarang’s face. Even then, I could feel the Devil lurking about, trying to snatch control and destroy what was in front of me. 

“J-Jin…” Hwoarang hissed through his gritted teeth, his hands moving up to grab my hand. I released his hand and his eyes open to look at me, clouded and wary. “That hurt…” 

“You seemed to be enjoying it,” I pointed out, nodding at the slight dent in his pants. He looked down and reddened a little.

“I haven’t done it in awhile yet,” he offered as an excuse. 

“Me neither. We probably should move on to the bedroom if you want this though,” I suggested. His eyes brightened a little and he got off me. I got up as well and followed him into the bedroom. I sat on the bed as he stood in front of me and for a long moment, everything was awkward. We probably should have gotten drunk first. 

He finally made the first move, climbing onto my lap and latching his lips on mind, pushing his tongue against my lips and into my mouth. I felt our tongues meet, mine brushing over his. My hands moved to his back, rubbing circles gently downwards till his ass. He bucked his hips at that and as I deepened our kiss and massaged his cheeks, his hips started rocking against mine, a tent forming in each of our pants. I moved from his lips and down to his neck, sucking the skin and nibbling occasionally till his skin reddened from my ministrations. 

I moved to his ear and gave him a lick. “What do you want me to do?” 

He looked at me, a slight smirk adorning his face. He gave me a shrug, obviously refusing to say his answer out loud and stake his pride. Growling, I nipped his ear as I let my hand move from his ass to his crotch. I traced light circles against the clothed erection. Hwoarang groaned, arching his back as he pushed forward for more, only for me to pull back. 

“What do you want me to do?” I repeated. 

He opened an eye and stared at me in annoyance, showing signs of the old Hwoarang. He leaned forward. “I want you to fuck me hard,” he whispered and I wondered how he made such an embarrassing demand sound so sexy. He pulled back and stared at me, obviously overcome by lust, and I saw more traces of the old him back. 

“Yeah, I will, but you’re going to have to earn it,” I said plainly. “Get down on your knees and do what you should be doing.” 

He didn’t object. He slid off me and knelt down in front of me. He unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans quickly, sliding his hands into my boxers and pulling out my dick. He stared at my member with his lusty eyes and leaned forward, his tongue sticking out to press against the head of my member and run along my slit. The intense feeling of his wet appendage sent me groaning as I closed my eyes. His tongue ran circles around my head at a pace that was slow enough to be considered torture. He moved up the shaft, the trail of his saliva leaving a cool tingling sensation on me. I opened my eyes slightly to see him tilt his head at the end, making way to run his tongue down a ball and then tilting to the other side for the other ball. As he licked the underside of the shaft, headed back towards the tip. Once he arrived at the edge, he licked a few more circles before he wrapped his lips around my tip. As he took more of me in his mouth, I leaned backwards, my hands supporting me on the bed, letting out a long sigh. It was torturous to the point that I was in pure bliss. I could feel waves of intense pleasure surging through me. I had never felt like that before.

However, while my mind was lost in my complete ecstasy, I completely forgot about my competitor that was trying to gain control of my body as well. All of a sudden, the pleasure I was feeling vanished, only to be replaced by nothingness. I opened my eyes and looked down. Hwoarang was still at it, and I think he was even deepthroating. But it felt like I was staring at him in a third-person view and not my own. I could hear the obscene suckling noises that his mouth was causing but I couldn’t say anything, nor could I move my body. 

Just stay in the background. Let me take care of this pest. 

I recognized the voice of the Devil and I realized that I had lost control to him. I tried to regain my control but the only problem was that I never knew how to. I was at his mercy. Hwoarang was at his mercy. 

The Devil ran my fingers through Hwoarang’s once-flaming red hair and grabbed it, making the latter cry out. He flipped us over, so that Hwoarang was seated on the floor, between my legs, his head facing upwards and pressed down against the mattress by my hands. The Devil shoved my dick all the way into the mouth, the sudden action almost choking the Korean below. He wrestled slightly to free himself but the Devil’s strength was too much for him. I could only watch as he squeezed his eyes shut and helplessly accepted the Devils’ inhumane pounding, up till the point my body crossed its limits and spilled the vile liquid into his mouth. Hwoarang gagged slightly but he managed to swallow. Devil stepped away from him. 

“Dude… what the fuck?” Hwoarang grumbled, wiping off the semen that had spilled off the edges of his mouth. 

Devil didn’t say a thing. He pushed Hwoarang on the bed, pinning him down. He grabbed the latter’s t-shirt and with a strong pull, ripped it off, unveiling his body. Hwoarang’s eyes went wide but before he could protest, Devil had worked on his jeans and had pulled that down as well, pressing our crotches against each other and grinding my hips. Hwoarang closed his eyes, his head rolling backwards as he let out a soft moan. I watched him silently, observing the way his mouth parted at every moan, his throat constricted at every breath and his hips buckle at every thrust. His body was squirming under mine. I noticed that his weight loss had been a little more severe than I had thought it to be. While he surely had some meat around, I could barely see the abs that I had once admired. When I stared carefully, I could also see faint outlines of his ribs. With his current body state, Devil dominated him completely and Hwoarang was in no position to fight back, though I knew he wouldn’t even try since he didn’t know it wasn’t me in there. 

Devil got off him and spun him around. I watched as he spread the cheeks and Hwoarang stiffened, preparing himself for what was to come. However, he obviously wasn’t prepared for what really came. Instead of preparing him, Devil just went straight to shoving my dick in him. Hwoarang let out a pained scream as Devil started pounding into him. He reached for Hwoarang’s hair and pulled it hard, guiding him to get on all fours. I could only helplessly watch as Devil continued fucking Hwoarang maliciously. He reached for the latter’s dick and took it in his fist, stroking it to match the rhythm of his thrusts. 

“J-Jin… I… I’m gonna come…” Hwoarang hissed. Devil immediately stopped, earning him an annoyed whine. He grabbed Hwoarang’s dick tightly, pressing his thumb above the tip, before he started thrusting again. 

“You’re not coming until I say you do,” he growled in my voice. 

Hwoarang cries continued as Devil pounded into him until he came. As he released his hold on Hwoarang, the latter immediately collapsed into the bed but without getting any time to recover, he was flipped onto his back, his erection still standing proud. Hwoarang reached over but Devil caught his arms and pinned them above his head with one hand. He placed my semi-erect dick near the entrance. 

“I can finish myself off…” Hwoarang said but Devil paid no heed to him. I don’t know how long Devil was at it for but all I knew was that by the time he was done, Hwoarang was completely knocked out from the fatigue, coated in his sweat and some come. The sight was an arousing one but the process I had witnessed had been traumatizing and I didn’t even want to think about how Hwoarang felt being raped by someone with a devilish stamina. 

When I regained control of my body, it was in the middle of the night. I sat up in bed and saw Hwoarang sitting on the edge of the bed, smoking a cigarette. My stirring caught his attention and he turned to look at me, blinking emotionlessly. 

“You’re not the man I once knew,” he said to me.

“I could say the same for you,” I grumbled. It completely slipped my mind that he hadn’t realized Devil had taken over. 

“For a moment, I considered helping you but now, I don’t think so,” he continued. 

“So the world doesn’t matter to you?” 

“I don’t care! I don’t want to get hurt anymore.” His words didn’t register in my mind. All I knew was that I was getting really angry. Devil was probably still in control, manipulating me, tormenting me by making me hurt the one person I truly cared about. 

“The world is much more important than your individualistic desires.” The words weren’t mine, just the voice. 

“Shut up, man. You’re pissing me off,” Hwoarang snapped. 

“You’re pissing me off,” I snarled, getting up. He got up as well, taking a few steps backwards. I felt my back twitch and my head spin for just a moment and then, everything vanished and I was back to my third-person view. I could see a look of pure horror cross Hwoarang’s face and I knew that the Devil had not only taken over but also unleashed his form. 

Hwoarang took a few more steps until his back his the wall. His legs were trembling and it wasn’t a surprise when they gave way and he slid down to the ground. 

“It was you all along…” he whispered. 

Devil let out a long, vicious laugh. He walked over to Hwoarang and grabbed him by the neck, pulling him up till his feet hung off the ground. “I’m hungry,” he growled. He proceeded to tear the clothes just like he had done before, revealing the Korean’s body. He bared his fangs and leaned forward.

No… Don’t tell me…

He sunk his fangs into Hwoarang’s pale flesh, drawing bright crimson blood. As he tore the flesh, my ears rang with Hwoarang’s scream as well as the ripping of the meat. I could feel the Devil chew the meat in my mouth, swallowing it into my body. 

“You taste much better than I expected you to,” he chortled. He spun Hwoarang around and pulled down his pants. He forcefully spread the other’s legs and pushed his way in, thrusting in and out. He licked the trail of blood that was flowing out of the wound, slurping it away happily. He leaned forward again and bit.

I closed my eyes, refusing to see any more. I heard more screams, more laughter, more ripping and more pleading. I could feel the rubbery meat in my mouth. I could taste the metallic tinge of blood. I could feel myself buried deep inside his damaged hole. I could feel my mind screaming away at me for the pain I had caused the one person who mattered to me.

When I opened my eyes, Devil was gone- at least for a while. I looked around the room hurriedly for Hwoarang and found him lying motionless on the floor in a pool of blood. His body was marred with scratches, bruises, teeth marks, torn flesh and broken bones. He lay in his own blood, whimpering and pleading. I crouched down and slowly picked him up. His eyes opened into narrow slits. 

“You would never have let him hurt me again… You promised,” he murmured and I remembered the promised I had made to him in the previous tournament, claiming to stop the Devil if it ever tried to harm him again. 

“Sorry,” I whispered, holding him closer to me. My mind raced, thinking of what I should do. Would a doctor help? No, there wouldn’t be time. 

“It hurts… so much… Is this how much you hate me?” he asked, forcing out a fake smile. I shook my head but from his half-lidded eyes and unfocused gaze, I could tell he couldn’t see me. 

“Hey, stay with me,” I urged. 

“The truth is… Jin… I… kinda…” His head lolled backwards as his eyes started losing their colour. “Loved… You…”

His body went limp and I let out a long scream. I could feel rage and hatred building up in me so much and I could hear it laughing and sneering at me. I lost control once more but this time, I had no idea what happened. When I came to, I was lying in a pool of blood that was not my own in his bedroom. His body was nowhere in sight.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm some sick pervert.


End file.
